Spring Returned

i woke up this morn­ing and the sky was the col­or of a week old bruise, and the air was filled with the noise of thun­der. to some peo­ple this would be ugly, but for me it is both fright­en­ing and won­der­ful. i love the sound of thun­der and the feel of rain on my face. it is awe-inspir­ing to watch the thun­der­heads race each oth­er across the sky, drop­ping their wet lug­gage in a bid to be the first to reach wher­ev­er it is that old storms go to die. i want to fol­low along, skip­ping from pud­dle to pud­dle and melt­ing into the warm del­uge of Spring Returned.